


Perfect Places

by SokkasInstincts (FloralPrintProuvaire)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Architect Sokka, Bad Opinions About Art, Bending (Avatar), Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Getting Together, Graphic Designer Zuko, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Secret Identity, The Blue Spirit as a Graffiti Artist, annoyance to friends to lovers, gratuitous art references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralPrintProuvaire/pseuds/SokkasInstincts
Summary: There weren't many ways Zuko could take out his aggressions against his father and his seedy business dealings, but a mask and a few cans of spray paint were a good start.He could absolutely manage these late-night escapades along with the last year of his university degree, no problem.(Enter a nosy architect with terrible opinions about art and an incessant need to discover the identity of the local benevolent street artist.)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Perfect Places

**Author's Note:**

> Edited for minor grammatical errors on 2/2/2021 - content remains the same. Thank you Marisa! 
> 
> Also added some links to the end notes as visual aid for some of the art discussed.

Zuko loved the city at this time of night. The heavy bustle of Ba Sing Se traffic was quiet for a few hours, and the streetlights flickered with an incandescent glow casting eerie shadows onto the pavement. Being out here at night was the most alone he ever felt. It was the most _at_ _peace_ he ever felt. 

The anonymity of nightfall cloaked him well, but he wore the hood and mask to be extra sure. He was stealthy and had plenty of experience sneaking around unnoticed, but it would be quite the scandal if the son of Ozai - heir to Sozin Enterprises - was caught covering the wall of the new Enterprise building with a healthy coat of paint.

It wasn’t a small task, the one he’d planned, but he’d been determined to carry it out _tonight._ Tomorrow they’d announce the acquisition of the building to the public and begin clearing out everything remaining inside. Everything including the people who had been using the building as shelter, and that just didn’t sit right with him. 

He’d learned years ago not to speak out against his father’s plans and had the scar to prove it, but between then and now he’d had plenty of time to come up with other methods of defiance. And while Zuko couldn’t reveal his identity or leave any concrete proof that he was behind the graffiti, he didn’t care if his father knew it was him. In fact, he almost preferred it. 

The strokes of the roller left large angry red marks on the wall, and the irony of being the one to leave a mark on something of Ozai’s wasn’t lost on him. He worked methodically, coating the large area first and uncapping his spray paints afterwards to add the details. It was easy to lose himself like this when he was painting for a cause, and he wasn’t sure if he’d been at this for minutes or hours.

The blip of a nearby police siren pulled him out of his trance. Shit. Well, he was almost finished… he guessed this would have to be close enough. It certainly got the message across anyway. He hurriedly sprayed his tag in the corner of the piece and chucked his paint cans back into his bag, cringing at the harsh clink of metal. With one last glance at the wall from a distance and a satisfactory nod, he pulled his mask down over his face and fled.

***

**_BA SING SE OBSERVER_ **

**_Crime Reports_ **

_Tuesday, January 28th 2021_

_Police arrived at the upper ring late Monday evening_  
_at around 2:30 am after a report was called in by a_  
_concerned citizen who witnessed a masked, hooded_  
_figure defacing the wall of an abandoned building_  
_with propagandic graffiti. Suspect had fled prior to_  
_investigation. Any individual with information relevant_  
_to this event is advised to call our 24 hour hotline._

***

It was 7:03 am when the sunlight streaming in through the blinds woke Zuko. He silently cursed his firebending for making sure he was up this early every morning. Just because he was destined to rise with the sun didn’t mean he enjoyed it. A look in the mirror confirmed that he had indeed been out late last night. A dark circle was prominent under his good eye, and flecks of stray paint dotted his cheeks. Well, the paint he could wash off at least. He’d given up trying to get rid of the scar years ago.

He knew he had to be awake anyway. He'd stupidly signed up for an 8AM art history class this semester, and his internal clock had been the only thing keeping him from missing it every Tuesday and Thursday. He liked the class fine, even if it was mostly material he’d already covered in his first three years of school. It was an easy ‘A’ at least, and it fulfilled his credits for graduation. 

The paint had taken longer to get off than he anticipated - he supposed that’s what he got for falling asleep with it rather than just washing his face as soon as he got home - so he didn’t have time to check in with his uncle downstairs and grab a mug of tea to take with him. That, however, did not stop Iroh from giving him a once-over and a disapproving head shake at the sight of him. He rolled his eyes but waved to him on his way out. 

Uncle had been nice enough to offer the loft space above his tea shop to Zuko as housing when he learned that he would attend Ba Sing Se University, and while Zuko hadn’t originally loved the idea of having family as a landlord, he had to admit that despite all of his nonsensical ramblings and metaphors, having Uncle on his side had repeatedly worked in his favor. His father had always made him out to be a crazy old man, but Zuko knew better now. His father would say he was going soft, and maybe he was, but it was nice having someone around who actually treated him with kindness. 

When he made his way to the lecture hall his class was held in, he was still a few minutes early, but someone was already in his seat. They weren’t assigned of course, but class had been in session for weeks now, and everyone was supposed to know the unspoken rule of sitting in the same place every time. He huffed and set his bag at a desk on the other side of the hall, glowering down at his hands and wishing he had warm tea to hold onto in the cold room. He settled for picking more paint flecks off as a distraction until the professor arrived.

“Are you a painter?” A voice asked from slightly behind him.

“What?” Zuko replied harsher than warranted, annoyed at being disturbed by a stranger.

“You know, your hands?” The boy seemed unphased at his tone and gestured to the small pile of dried paint pooling on his desk.

“Oh. Uh. No, I’m a designer. I just paint for fun. I’m not very good at it.”

“That’s okay, I’m not good at any art!” He smiled brightly, and Zuko wondered what he was doing in an art history class then.

“What are you doing in an art history class then?” He asked because his brain to mouth filter often malfunctioned. The boy didn’t seem phased.

“I’m in architecture! I chose this as an elective since the history overlaps sometimes. That mini unit a few weeks ago on Gothic architecture was super interesting. Most of my classes focus more on the structural elements than the artistic ones. Plus the professor said buttresses a lot.” He giggled to himself, and Zuko tried not to laugh as well. At how ridiculous this guy was, of course, not because the word ‘buttress’ was funny. He was a mature adult.

The boy gathered up his notebook and backpack and lept gracefully over the row of seats between them to take the desk on his right instead. 

“My name’s Sokka.”

“Zuko.”

“I noticed we haven’t covered a lot of designers in this class. Is this an elective for you too?”

“They really gloss over graphic design in these broad art history classes,” Zuko sighed. “You have to take a history of graphic design class if you want to learn more about the specifics.”

“Huh,” Sokka said, “I think my friend mentioned taking one of those last semester. She said it was like the hardest class she’d ever had. The professor made her memorize all of the designers’ names with exact spelling, no multiple choice or anything, and made sure she didn’t give any hints in the test.”

“That sounds about right,” Zuko chuckled. 

“Man, people don’t give you art kids enough credit. Your major is _hard!_ ” 

Zuko rolled his eyes at the obvious statement as the professor walked in and immediately dimmed the lights for lecture. 

He had to admit that with Sokka next to him the class was a lot easier to stay awake through. Normally Baroque style art bored him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the talent that went into it, it was more that he didn’t care much about portraiture or religion - two heavily featured subjects in the paintings they were studying. 

The professor began to point out the dramatic and exaggerated facial expressions many of the painted subjects wore, and he felt a small tap on his shoulder. When he turned to face Sokka, he was treated to an exact replica of the expression featured on the projection - mouth pulled down into an exaggerated frown and eyes rolled toward the sky in the most exasperated manner. He tried to stifle a laugh, but each new painting the professor showed was paired with an impression from Sokka more ridiculous than the last, and it became harder to hold it in each time. 

Thankfully the lecture ended before they were noticed. Zuko had a reputation to maintain in this class, and Sokka wasn’t even an art major. He couldn’t afford to let him get him in trouble. He tried to take his time packing up his things in order to avoid walking awkwardly next to Sokka on his way out, but when he looked up, he found him waiting for him.

“Do you have another class to get to? I need coffee if I’m going to make it through the rest of this day.”

Zuko didn’t have another class until his design studio at one. He was planning on taking a nap, but he did really want tea, and it would be awkward if he said no and then they both showed up at the same shop. Maybe if he was lucky, he could make this quick and still get a little extra sleep.

“Not right away,” he answered hesitantly. “Where were you thinking?”

“There’s a little coffee shop in the science building. It’s not fancy, but I know the kid who works there, and he adds the fancy syrups to the drinks for free since we’re friends!”

“Do they have tea?”

“Aw man, I should’ve known you were gonna be pretentious. You art people always are.” 

“Says the man who puts fancy flavors in his coffee,” he smirks. Sokka throws his hands up with a guilty smile. 

“Alright, you’ve got me there. C’mon, my treat to make it up to you.”

The tea ended up being surprisingly good. Not quite up to Uncle’s standards of course, but more drinkable than he’d found anywhere else on campus. The bald kid with the arrow tattoos had indeed slipped some syrup into Sokka’s drink when his boss hadn’t been looking, and Zuko had been pretty positive using airbending to froth the milk for his latte wasn’t standard practice. He’d offered the same to Zuko with a wide grin, but Zuko had inherited his purist taste in beverages from his uncle. 

He’d hoped to make a quick exit with the drink, but since Sokka had paid, he didn’t want to be rude. He opened his mouth to ask where he wanted to sit but was interrupted by a flurry of short brown hair and a green jumpsuit. 

“Hey roomie!” She said, greeting him with a karate chop to the shoulder. He rubbed at the spot like it had actually hurt, but from the looks of her muscles maybe it had. “Pick up a stray?” She asked, nodding towards Zuko.

“Found him in my art history class this morning!” Sokka said brightly. 

“Suki,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand covered in more paint than Zuko’s had been earlier.

“Zuko.”

“Art history, eh?” She said to Sokka, and then turned to Zuko to ask “Are you an artist then?”

“Designer.”

“Ah, I can tell from the glasses.” Zuko scowled. “And the reaction to that comment,” she added with a laugh. “That’s what they all do. So predictable.” She dropped into the seat next to Sokka, and Zuko wondered if he could leave now that he wasn’t going to be abandoning him to drink his coffee alone. 

“So Zuko, what year are you?” Suki asked. Apparently the answer to that question was no. 

“This is my last one. What about the two of you?” 

“This is my fourth year as well but I’ll be here for another one since I picked up a second major. Painting is great, but I couldn’t give up Martial Arts, so I’m doing both. Sokka here is a third year with the maturity of a first year.”

“Hey that’s not fair!” 

“Isn’t it?” She sticks her tongue out at him. 

“I don’t know Sokka, were you or were you not making faces at the art in lecture today?” Zuko couldn’t help adding. 

“I wasn’t making faces AT the art, I was making the faces that they were making! And I’d love to see a first year pull the kind of grades I get in my architecture classes.” He puffed out his chest and crossed his arms in what Zuko guessed was a move to make him look intimidating, but the pout kind of ruined it. 

The scrape of chair legs brought his attention to the seat next to him, and he saw that the barista from before had joined them as well. Sokka must’ve understated how well he knew this guy if he was just going to join them on his break uninvited. 

“Hey Sokka! Hey Suki! Hey Zuko!” He greeted them each with an enthusiasm that suggested he didn’t really need the large coffee in his hands. 

“Do you know Zuko too?” Sokka asked.

“Nope, just wrote his name on his cup earlier! Not a super common name, so I remembered it.” He shrugged. 

“Aang is so good at remembering things it’s unfair. I had to stop studying with him because it was too frustrating. And he knows like six languages!” Suki filled him in. 

“And he’s only a first year,” Sokka added. 

“It’s really just all four of the traditional languages and two dialects…” Aang said sheepishly. 

“Oh come on, _no one_ knows the Swamp dialect. Give yourself credit!” 

“I will if you give yourself credit for being an architectural genius!”

“Thank you, Aang! I was just trying to tell them!” 

This earned him another punch to the shoulder from Suki. 

“Speaking of,” Sokka said, “Did you guys see someone vandalized that abandoned building in the upper ring?”

Zuko tried and failed not to choke on his tea. Luckily it didn’t seem like the rest of them noticed. 

“Oh yeah! The Blue Spirit again! That guy is so cool,” Aang said.

“If you think it’s cool to destroy buildings,” Sokka scoffed.

“Oh, come on Sokka, it’s not hurting anything! It’s art!” Suki chimed in. 

“It’s spray paint. It’s _not_ art. I just spent forty minutes in lecture looking at art, and none of it looked anything like that. Right, Zuko?” 

Zuko didn’t like having all eyes on him on a good day, let alone when they were discussing his secret and technically criminal identity and whether or not what he was doing was worth anything.

“I’ve seen a few of his pieces,” he said slowly, calculated. “It’s not like the stuff we covered today, but we haven’t gotten past the Baroque period yet. We’ll get to the contemporary stuff later.” He looked over to gauge Sokka’s reaction but got nothing. “As far as the Blue spirit though… I like what he stands for. His art has a message.”

Sokka rolled his eyes.

“What message? That any punk with a can of paint can just tag a building?” 

“Sokka don’t be dense!” Suki looked like she was seriously considering throwing another punch his way. “If you’re this insufferable about street art, I can’t wait until you learn about Dadaism.” 

“That even _sounds_ fake. Wait, Suki, that’s not the toilet art right? Tell me that’s not the toilet…”

Suki just laughed and patted his back sympathetically. 

“I warned you that you weren’t going to like the second half of this class much. Don’t worry, I’ll take you to an art museum and go over it with you so you don’t explode in class.”

Sokka looked like he couldn’t decide between exasperation at the subject matter and relief at having his friend explain it to him. 

“Did you actually see the new mural, Sokka?” Aang asked without waiting for the answer he already seemed to know. “It’s really well done, and if I’m interpreting it right, it seems to be advocating for the people currently using the building as housing. I know they’ve been trying to evict everyone lately… I really hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“I don’t want that either. I just don’t see how graffiti will help.” He said, sipping aggressively through his straw at the ice left in the bottom of his cup and making an obnoxious sound signalling the apparent end of the conversation. Which was great timing because Zuko didn’t think he could listen to much more of this debate without losing it. 

“I have another class to get to…” he said and stood a bit awkwardly. “It was nice meeting you all.” 

“See you Thursday, buddy!” Sokka waved enthusiastically, his mood suddenly much brighter without the topic of art weighing him down. 

“Sure,” he replied, though he fully intended to arrive earlier next time and get his usual seat back. Suki and Aang seemed nice enough, and Sokka seemed… well, he seemed like a well intentioned annoyance if Zuko was being honest. It had been an entertaining morning, but Zuko worked best alone. He always had.

***

_Son,_

_It has been brought to my attention that the building which was set to house the expansion of Sozin Enterprises has been defaced, thus delaying the acquisition announcement until this can be taken care of. I am choosing to believe that you had nothing to do with this, for your sake more than mine._

_You would do well to remember that this business funds your education, despite your choice to waste it on a mastery in art. Your sister seems to understand this, I don’t know why it has been such a problem for you._

_I expect there will be no more complications regarding our new project, or I will be forced to take action._

_Regards,_  
_Ozai  
_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been purposefully vague in not naming specific artists or artworks but we're operating under the assumption that the Avatar universe went through the same artistic periods as our universe. 
> 
> This is currently outlined as 7 chapters, but we'll see how things unfold.
> 
> Comments are met with so much love, and feel free to say hi on tumblr if you like at mais-charmante :)
> 
> Some examples of Baroque Art AKA Sokka's inspiration for in-lecture antics:  
> [This](https://i2.wp.com/drivethruhistory.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/StPeter.jpg?w=1500&ssl=1) and [This ](http://albertis-window.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/Boy-Bitten-by-a-Lizard-London_small.jpg)  
> ['The Toilet'](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fountain_\(Duchamp\)) AKA Sokka's Nemesis AKA he had to lay down for an hour after Suki showed it to him.


End file.
